Before diving into my egocentric musings, I took a stroll through some of my favorite Journalscape cul-de-sacs. It's always a pleasure to catch up with these folk - all are precious to me - several I've know forever (Barbara and Eric) and others are new friends - fast new friends - fast new precious friends. Journalscape is a small blog site - dare I say, elite. :) It's quiet here, but beautiful serious thoughts arrive daily, and I thank you.

I haven't been diligent (that word is way too dignified for my negligence) with comments to comments, so I'll say a few words here: I so appreciate the time you all take and make to visit and leave remarks. Eric, you will never fail to amaze me with your humor and insights - thank you, thank you. And, Babs, we have such a beautiful connection that takes me back to Fallbrook and the hallowed air we shared that filled and bubbled and burst through those canyons and upon us with onshore breezes surging from the Pacific. I think of you so very, very often.

Well, these praises are meant for all of you, and I apologize if I'm remiss at times in expressing my appreciation. Bex, Daisy, Em, Smarti, TS - you are the bestest!

******

Let me tell you about my yesterday.

Oye.

My cousins from Kansas City drove to Nashville yesterday to rendezvous with their daughter and her husband who were driving from Mobile, Alabama. All four were convening for a group celebration of wedding anniversaries.

I was driving from Monteagle to Nashville - the shortest drive to partake in the rendezvous.

This is what happened:

From Manchester, TN to the urban center of Nashville (about 80 miles) I average 45 mph (maybe 50 mph) in the type of rain that falls sideways at 200 mph and windshield wipers are useless and semis are spawn of the devil and hazard lights are the best defense if people can actually see them in rain that's drilling the earth sideways at 200 mph. Well, a lot of prayer and potty-mouth factored in, too.

At one point, the rain was so lethally intimidating, I pulled off the highway onto some nondescript Twilight Zone off-ramp. I called my Aunt Jean Carol and in a quivering voice said, "Bob Bookie would be scared where I am right now."

Sigh.

In the meantime, my cousin Genevieve's plane was arriving in Nashville from Miami, FL or Vandalia, GA. She and her husband have homes in both places. Don't ask. I've never quite figured it out either. She was regaling my Aunt Jean Carol and Uncle Bill with stories of all the people on her plane who were decked out for the Country Music Awards that were about to begin in Nashville.

*Bing*

Meanwhile, as I'm battling the Perfect Storm to meet my Kansas City cousins in Nashville for lunch they call me just as I'm flipping my windshield wipers to the fastest speed possible, and they tell me that most of downtown Nashville is blocked off because of the parade for the Country Music folk and that it's celebrity mania.

Oye.

Ya know. I don't have a co-pilot. I don't have a third hand to reconfigure my GPS. For thunder's sake, my cell phone doesn't even take photos - and somehow or another I have to continue plowing through rain and then negotiate downtown Nashville through hordes of fans and celebrities to meet my cousins?

Well, I did. And we had the most marvelous time. It was super-duper.



Union Station in Nashville is remarkable


The ceiling of the lobby at Union Station, Nashville


The group that was so very worth the challenges. Pete, Deb, Reenie, Lauren, Dan